Silk and Water
by Alien-Queen-Stan
Summary: Kaiya had always been an enigma to Izuku, ever since they were little. She'd made her home out of shadows and contradictions and he never could fight off the need to get closer to see, forever fascinated by the way she was a product of her own design. AKA Kaiya and Izuku grew up together and the little dummies take forever to figure out their feelings for each other.


Izuku fiddled with the edge of the itchy material of his sleeves, unsure what to make of what his mother had told him would be his uniform for preschool. She hadn't let him try it on till the first day of school and from the way it swallowed his arms he was sure it was far too long but his mother had gushed when she saw him and insisted he'd grow into it.

When they had left home she had made sure to make him promise not to get it dirty or mess it up during play time or lunch because it wouldn't be easy to replace. He hadn't understood what was so special about it, he'd much rather wear his All Might outfit instead - that was way more special, but he promised to be extra careful nonetheless.

He'd practically dragged her along that morning, pulling on her sleeve and bouncing to try and encourage her to pick up the pace, his body practically shaking in place at the thought of getting to play with new friends all day.

Once he made it to the doorway of the classroom, however, he felt his stomach twist uncomfortably at the thought.

He was reluctant to leave his mother's side, hands messing with his sleeves or holding onto the fabric of her skirt as she talked with what must be his teacher for the year as he eyed the classroom already full of children.

He wanted to go say hi and play with them but he just couldn't bring himself to leave the familiar comfort of his mother's side. Hiding behind her wasn't the heroic thing to do, All Might doesn't hide when he meets new people after all, but the thought of having to go meet everyone by himself brought fresh tears that threatened to spill over and trail down his apple face.

"Mama," he asked, tugging on her skirt, "Where's Kacchan at?"

His mother had told him Kacchan would be going to the same elementary school and Izuku had been excited by the idea of having his friend in the same class. When he had glanced around at all the other children, however, he couldn't find the blond boy anywhere.

His mother apparently didn't think the boy's absence was strange as she insisted they were running a bit late before kneeling down and engulfing him in a hug that left his worries momentarily forgotten.

"I have to get going now, be good and don't cause any trouble," she said with a final squeeze and a quick peck on his cheek.

With a small murmur of agreement and a final wave goodbye, his teacher led him to the area where the rest of the children had been playing with a, what she probably thought of as simple, instruction to 'make friends' before rushing off to prevent another child from jumping off of two chair they had stacked on top of each other to show off their wing quirk.

Glancing around, Izuku wasn't sure who he was supposed to 'make friends' with. Everyone already looked busy with their games and friends they had already made; he didn't want to interrupt anyone.

He was left to wander aimlessly for a moment, trying to decide if he should approach a group or wait until Kaachan arrived, until a solid force rushed into him from behind, knocking him over and landing on him with a disgruntled 'oof'.

Disorientated from being knocked over he hadn't realized his assailant was talking to him until they held their hand out to help him up. Dazed and slightly confused he accepted the assistance.

His would be attacker turned out to be a girl, far shorter than he was and with a head full of tight curls looking to be on the verge of breaking out of the bun their parents must've spent far too long on for it to be falling out so early in the day.

"Do you want to color with me?" Her smile was wide as she beamed at him and was practically hopping from one foot to the other in her excitement. To get back to her drawing or to meet him he wasn't too sure. Looking at her, it was clear she took her craft seriously; her hands and parts of her face and uniform had already been covered with the ink of the markers she had been working with before she had made your impromptu introduction.

No explanation or apology for why she ended up on top of him was offered - in the end he figured he didn't really need one.

"Yeah," his voice was a bit smaller than he was used to but her smile had been contagious, his own growing wider as she grabbed his hand and dragged him off to a desk not too far off where she had apparently been working on...something.

Crayons, colored pencils, markers and half finished coloring book pages had been shrew about - some items broken, some pages ripped from where she had pressed too hard when coloring, and some markers with lids on the wrong colors, but the girl didn't seem to mind as she made her way to her seat and grabbed the book to show Izuku. It was a hero coloring book and Izuku felt his excitement grow as she listed all the heroes the two of them were able to color and draw over.

"All Might, too?" he questioned only to be met with an eager nod as she shifted through the pages before landing on the hero in question. Her ripping the page out of the book had Izuku scrambling to stop her as he insisted the teachers wouldn't be very happy about it.

"What are they gunna do with a coloring page?" she asked as she shoved it in his direction along with some scattered coloring utensils, many of which had been pushed far too hard and had rolled off the table haphazardly.

She wasted no time getting to work, picking up as many crayons as she could fit into her hand before scribbling all over the page in front of her. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as if the work in front of her was the most important thing she could be doing at nine in the morning on a Monday.

"Aren't you supposed to stay inside the lines?" Izuku asked. His mother certainly hadn't taught him to color as...spontaneously as she did, and her method left him with many more questions than he could find the words for.

"Artists make their own lines," she stated, leaving no room for disagreement.

Izuku nodded, not understanding a bit of what exactly that was supposed to mean, before grabbing a handful of his own crayons - what little had remained on the table - before giving her style a go.

He'd never known he could use so many colors for one picture before and when he showed her his finished product her compliments had left him brimming with pride.

When his mother had came to pick him up later that day he made sure to tell her what he had learned in class, what Kaachan had done that day, and all about the little artist named Kaiya.


End file.
